The Fields of Enna
by bathtubblogger
Summary: It's Ginny Weasley's seventh and final year at Hogwarts.  And, being Hogwarts, there will most certainly be lots of love, happiness, pain, and loss. Not to mention midnight excursions to the kitchens for chocolate custard.
1. Chapter One: The Final Beginning

**Disclaimer: I was not christened Joanne Kathleen Rowling, so I own nothing.**

Chapter One: The Final Beginning

The morning of September first dawned leisurely and peacefully, spreading warm beams of pink sunrise across all of Britain.

A late summer breeze wafted from seaside, bringing with it the faint scent of brine. The cloudless rose sky was stabbed brilliantly with reds and oranges, bathing the ground in a saturated glow. All across the countryside, roosters were crowing, awakening the comfortably sleeping forms inside the farmhouses**. **

The accents of dew on the grass trembled as little children raced to their sheds, pulling out battered Cleansweep Sevens, Bluebottles, and Comet 260s for a final game of Quidditch with their older siblings before the Hogwarts Express departed from King's Cross Station in four hours.

Ginny Weasley shifted in her soft downy blanket, refusing to open her eyes. The new sun had peeked its rays into her bedroom window, but she was thinking about the prospect of the tedious train ride later that morning, and she wanted to savor these first few moments of early day.

A bird twittered happily outside, singing its song for the world. With each passing moment, Ginny could hear her parents awakening and preparing for the day ahead. Soon the smell of eggs and her mother's delicious scones drifted from the kitchen into Ginny's bedroom directly above. The soft hum of Molly's voice, directing the eggs to scramble and her father's muted early morning debate with the _Daily Prophet_ (which he still received precisely, Ginny believed, for these matutinal disputes), along with the mouthwatering aromas, finally propelled her out of bed.

Yawning as she threw a an old Chudley Cannons sweatshirt of Ron's over her plain gray tee, she padded in her slippers out of her bedroom, down the stairs, and into the kitchen.

The Weasley kitchen was a sight to behold. It was a cramped room, filled predominantly with a rickety wooden table, meant to hold nine. These days, however, it only held three. Her mum was busy directing the pots to scrub themselves and did not notice Ginny's arrival immediately.

Arthur Weasley, however, vexedly pushed the paper aside, stood to greet his daughter. The tall man, whose vivid red hair did not fully cover his shiny pate, bent down to tightly hug Ginny.

"Morning," he whispered into her ear.

"Morning, Dad," she answered, hugging him back.

"How's the Prophet this morning?" she asked, laughing slightly.

"Oh, Merlin!" he groaned, his forehead wrinkling in disgust. "They've got some crackpot story about Moody, going on about his involvement with the Order, saying he was the best Auror of all time- which he was, mind you- but they seemed to have forgotten that when he died, they covered it up! Even with Kingsley as Minister, the Prophet hasn't become any more ethical…"

He trailed off, muttering to himself.

By this time, Molly Weasley had finished the pots, and turned around to greet her youngest child. Mrs. Weasley, while still pleasant and motherly, was mourning the loss of her son Fred. Her plump frame was a bit diminished, leaving her normally pulvinated figure rather gaunt looking. Dark circles ringed her warm brown eyes, the color of which she had passed down to Ginny. She was considerably more exhausted, yet embraced her daughter fondly.

"Good morning, dear, why don't you sit down? Stop getting your father so worked up! Arthur," she addressed her husband. "You know very well that the Prophet is hogwash, I don't know why you still receive it!" Shaking her head in a maternal fashion, she turned back to Ginny.

"Now, you've got a busy day ahead of you. We've got to get to the station by 10:45 in order for you to get settled." She explained the schedule while dishing out flavorful plates of scrambled eggs and arranging the freshly baked blueberry scones on a serving platter.

"Which means we'll need to leave here by… oh, let's see, 10:30. We'll Floo to the Leaky Cauldron and walk to the station. It's only a short walk, the trunk won't be too cumbersome… You've packed all your books and clothes, Ginny?"

Ginny nodded her affirmation, considering that her mouth was full of piping hot eggs.

"Good. You'll need to clean out Pigwidgeon's cage and your cauldron… and bring your broom, too." At the mention of Ginny's broom, a pleased note came into her mother's voice.

In Ginny's sixth year, in the midst of the Second Wizarding War, Quidditch at Hogwarts had been cancelled. She hadn't ridden a broom since she had gone into hiding after Easter Break. Last month, when Ginny received her Hogwarts letter containing a list of supplies she would need, a silver badge slipped from between the pages of the missive. Her parents had been overjoyed at the news, and immediately owled their sons with the announcement that Ginny was the second Quidditch Captain in the family.

As a present for her birthday three weeks ago, George had given her the newly released Nimbus 2002, one of the best brooms on the market. It only pained Ginny slightly that she did not have a Firebolt like Harry did when he was Captain, because the Nimbus 2002 was a phenomenal broom.

When she rode it for the first time on her birthday while her parents and brothers were asleep, she was the happiest she had been in months. It was a beautiful broom: the Nimbus's chestnut handle shone even in the starless night. At the slightest tilt of her body, the Nimbus fluidly turned, allowing her to try daring new stunts she had never tried before on her old Cleansweep Seven. The rest of her summer break was spent flying, starting in the early morning and sometimes lasting until dinnertime.

Ginny finished her eggs, and left her parents in the kitchen to get ready. An hour later she was freshly showered and dressed like a Muggle in a pair of denim trousers and a green tee which created a lovely contrast with her fiery red locks.

She was sweeping out the droppings in Pigwidegeon's cage when an owl tapped on her window. Pig was flittering about the room, so she carefully opened the window and allowed the great horned owl in.

It settled on her arm, completely ignoring Pig, who was twittering wildly at the new guest, and turned its great yellow eyes on Ginny. She untied the letter it offered from its leg, and it hopped on top of Pig's carefully cleaned cage. Ginny unfolded the parchment, curious as to the writer, since she had never seen the bird before. She read:

_Dear Ginny,_

_Sorry I haven't written in a while, I've been awful busy. As you know, both Ron and I are studying hard for our tests, especially since we need all the help we can get after skipping last year. We test in late October for acceptance into the official Auror program. Hopefully both of us will be accepted and then I can write to you more often instead of worrying about these tests._

_I hope this gets to you in time, before you leave for Hogwarts. Archimedes (that's my new owl, do you like him? No owl's going to be as good as Hedwig, but he's still a superb flier) is really fast, so I'm certain you'll read this in time. I hear you're Quidditch Captain! That's really great, Ginny. You'll have to tell me all about your season. I think with you as Captain, Gryffindor will win the Quidditch Cup!_

_Anyways, I'd best make this short if it will get to you on time. Good luck at school, study hard. I'll write when I can. Owl if you need anything._

_Harry_

Ginny smiled, folding the letter and putting it in her pocket. She hadn't heard from Harry since her birthday party in early August, and her whole family had crowded around their youngest member, so she hadn't had much of a chance to talk to him.

She scribbled a quick answer that she would write once she was settled at Hogwarts, and Archimedes extended his leg for her to tie her reply on. He took off through the window, his wings spreading into the air. Ginny watched him go, a small ache in her chest as she missed the majestic sight of Hedwig.

Pig was still flitting about the room, but she managed to capture him. Once he was all settled inside, hooting reluctantly, she grabbed his cage in one hand and her trunk in the other. Her trunk had been charmed with a Portability Spell, but even so, it was rather unwieldy managing it down the stairs. She set her trunk and Pig's cage next to the large brick fireplace that was to be their transportation and glanced at the clock in the living room.

The Weasley clock was quite different from normal clocks, in the fact that it had numerous hands, one for each member of the Weasley family. Fred's hand had disappeared completely, leaving eight hands. Currently, Ginny's and her parents' hands were pointing towards 'Home'. Her brothers' were directed at 'Work'.

Her parents were nowhere to be seen, and Ginny decided she had enough time for one last flight around the Burrow before they left for King's Cross. She headed to the broom shed and grabbed her Nimbus. Its natural elegance and lightweight design still made her smile a little with delight, even after a month of flying.

She kicked off from the ground and flew two easy laps around the Burrow's orchard, letting the cool air erase any of her stress. Ginny's thoughts wandered from school to Harry and back.

She didn't know why, but she was dreading the thought of the train ride, Sorting ceremony, and the start of term. Maybe it was the notion that the only close friend she would have to confide in was Luna, who had been unusually distant over the summer months, or maybe it was the fact that she would be whispered about and watched, because she was so closely entangled in the events the previous May, in which Fred and Colin had been killed. Not to mention the fact that Ginny was romantically linked to Harry, who was an attraction all by himself.

As she completed a complicated set of twists and maneuvers, she sternly told herself that if Harry, Ron, and Hermione were able to ignore the gossips, she could as well. She owed it to Harry, if nothing else.

She felt a small pang in her chest at the unfortunate reality that he would not be at school this year, and they could only communicate through owl post. She wouldn't be able to study with him in the library or naughtily pull him behind a deserted statue for a snog before class. She wouldn't be able to entwine her hands in his thick black hair or gaze into his clever eyes, which were the perfect shade of green. No more early morning flights or late night conversations. He would become as distant and closed to her as Luna had. Ginny knew she could not survive on letters alone. It would be exactly like last year, except for that she wouldn't be living in constant fear for his life. The certainty that Harry was not going to die anytime soon only exacerbated her unhappiness. He was so near, and yet it seemed she could never quite reach him.

A feeling of anger suddenly came over her. Disgustedly, she turned her broom swiftly in the opposite direction. How could she, a Weasley, a Gryffindor, think such things? She had survived the Second Wizarding War and had fought in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries and the Battle of Hogwarts. She was brave and strong, like her friends and family before her and she would not let a silly thing like not being able to see her boyfriend for a few months make her miserable. She alighted on the ground and strode toward the paddock fence.

With this new attitude and a stubbornly determined gait, she returned to the house.

Her father was lounging in the living room next to her trunk, calmly reading the new issue of _The Quibbler_, (which had returned to its usual far-fetched and highly entertaining content after last year's brief stint into anti-Potter propaganda) and from the faint but frantic noises coming from upstairs, she guessed that her mother was rushing around in her room. Ginny pulled out her Broom Servicing Kit and painstakingly groomed all of the Nimbus's perfectly placed tail twigs back into position.

Her father, glancing up from the magazine, chuckled.

"Ginny, your tail was just fine when you started. There's no reason to brush them back into place if they're already there!"

Ginny rolled her eyes at the ceiling, letting out a sigh. "Dad, it needs to look perfect!"

"If you say so…" he answered jokingly, returning back to the _Quibbler_'s article on the current infestation of Germanic Bowtruckles and the apparent mites that they carried over into Britain, causing the present outbreak of Scrofungulus.

Her mother clattered down the rickety stairs, holding a jar tightly in her hands.

Huffing and puffing, she reached the fireplace and held out the fresh container of Floo Powder.

"I found it!" she exclaimed. "Hiding up in the closet… don't know why it was there. Here, Ginny, grab your trunk and broom, Arthur'll take Pig, quick, hurry, we're going to be late!"

Ginny hauled her trunk and broom into the fireplace, took a large handful of the powder, and flung it into the grate, yelling, "The Leaky Cauldron!" The green flames immediately leapt up, and Ginny felt an unpleasant squeezing feeling in her stomach**. **She clenched her eyes shut, but her organs still lodged themselves in her throat**. **

In a few seconds, she had stopped manically spinning and was hurled out of the Leaky Cauldron's rather dusty fireplace along with her trunk and broom. She barely managed to keep a hold of her baggage and, with characteristic Weasley grace, narrowly missed crashing headlong into a group of elderly witches, who stepped back quickly, twittering with indignation.

Ginny mumbled an embarrassed, "Sorry," and dizzily headed for the bar to wait for her parents. She had Flooed many times in her life, yet she never managed to get used to the feeling.

Less than ten seconds later, her mother waltzed out of the hearth, steady and unruffled. Her father appeared, carrying Pig's cage, which was hooting resentfully, and they made their way to the bar. Ginny breezily declared that her trip was uneventful, editing out the awkward parts, and the three exited the pub with a cheery wave to Tom, who was furiously scrubbing a pair of murky glasses.

The street was quite active with Muggles, who were paying very little attention to anyone else. They did get a few glances at the miniature owl, but the Nimbus had previously been charmed with a Disillusionment Spell, so there were no suspicions aroused. Her father was looking around curiously, excitingly pointing out various modern marvels, like "cellyphones which had telly screens".

Ginny enjoyed the walk to King's Cross and observing the disorderly interactions. Several little children had to be pulled by their annoyed guardian out of the road after taking notice of Pig and standing transfixed. Ginny spotted an attractive Ravenclaw fifth year by the name of Diane walking with her father, and Andrew, a hefty Hufflepuff fourth year trudging behind his mother, all looking very odd in their Muggle apparel.

They reached the station with plenty of time to spare. Inside, Ginny fetched a trolley and nonchalantly strolled through the brick barrier, the entrance to Platform 9 and 3/4 and was greeted with the familiar sight of the Hogwarts Express, its vast scarlet body belching large amounts of smoke and occasionally emitting screeching whistles.

Ginny sighed pleasantly. It was nice to know that some things stayed the same, even after everything had changed.

Students and parents were milling around, hailing friends, searching for missing belongings, and calling their farewells. Hannah Abbott, a former Hufflepuff, gestured enthusiastically from across the platform where she was saying goodbye to her younger sister Nancy, a Hufflepuff third year.

Ginny nodded and smiled in answer to Michael Corner's polite greeting. He was escorting his little sister, Maria, a second year Ravenclaw. His handsome face was slightly marred by the twin slashes on either cheek, sinister reminders of the Carrows' reign of terror.

Dennis Creevey yelled eagerly from a compartment. He looked unchanged, even after his brother's death the previous May. However Ginny had known Colin intimately and Dennis was very much like his brother; he was obviously putting up a front. She would talk to him once school started. A loose owl soared close to her face, startling her out of her thoughts. She pushed through the mass and loaded her trunk, broom, and Pig's cage onto the train.

As she emerged to bid farewell to her parents, her mother hugged her tightly.

"Study hard. Behave. And write often," her mother commanded, releasing Ginny from her smothering embrace.

Mr. Weasley enveloped her in his arms.

"Yes, concentrate on your schoolwork and Quidditch. And we'll try to write too. Don't get too caught up with friends." Molly added an affirmative noise. His blue eyes twinkled mischievously, and he added in an undertone, "But it's all right if you get a _little_ caught up. You're seventeen." Then a little louder, so his wife could hear, "Have a good term, dear. We'll see you at Christmas."

Ginny smiled lovingly and boarded the train with a slight pain in her heart. She spotted Luna in a Ravenclaw section but decided not to intrude.

She found an empty compartment in the back of the train and settled in the quiet window seat, pulling her legs up under her and resting her head against the cool glass. As the whistle shrilly announced their departure, Ginny gazed out of her lonely compartment's window, watching her parents on the platform. Amidst the horde, they looked like two fragile and bent figurines, her mother wiping tears from her eyes.

She stared at the blurring and shifting landscape out the window, only looking away to refuse the offer of food from the stout witch rolling the trolley, and against her will, eventually slid into a slumber.


	2. Chapter Two: Not Necessarily Good News

**Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling, I own no characters at all, except the ones I make up.**

Chapter Two: Not Necessarily Good News

Ginny woke suddenly when her compartment door was thrown open with a bang. Blinking hurriedly and wiping a bit of drool off her chin, she looked into the face of Luna Lovegood. The girl's expression was shocked, her protuberant eyes and open mouth giving her the rather comical appearance of a lemur.

"Ginny!" Luna exclaimed. "You were asleep," she noted sagely.

Ginny felt the blood rush to her cheeks, her Weasley temper rising. Her best friend hadn't written to her all summer and when she finally saw her she informed Ginny that she had been sleeping?

"Gee, that was observant of you, _Loony_," she spat coldly.

As soon as she uttered the words, Ginny wanted to slap herself. Yes, she was mad, she had a right to be; but there was no need to be cruel. Her biting words would not magically disappear.

Ginny became aware of the expansive void in the room, as if Ginny was on one side and Luna, only a shape in the distance, was on the other. Ginny's retort seemed to take ages to arrive at her friend's ears, and with each passing second Ginny's shame grew considerably larger. She desperately wanted to say something, but it was as if her lips were glued together, and she could only watch, frozen, as her friend registered the remark.

Luna's pale blue eyes fixated on Ginny's and held her gaze for a long, painful moment, and then her lids quickly closed. Opening them again, Luna took a rapid breath, slid the compartment door closed behind her, and took the seat opposite Ginny.

"In case you hadn't noticed, the train's stopped. We're at Hogsmeade Station- you're the last on board." Luna spoke faintly.

Another uncomfortable moment passed, broken only by the uneven breaths of the two girls, and Ginny let her friend's words sink in.

Luna had searched for her. She had chosen to find her friend rather then go to the feast, even while she was probably starving, even while the chances that Ginny was already at the castle were quite probable.

As these thoughts flooded her mind, Ginny could feel the angry tension ease from her shoulders. Luna cared.

Her already prominent feeling of guilt and shame, however, settled down heavily, dampening her giddy feeling of relief.

Luna continued, "I was looking for you in the Gryffindor sixth and seventh year compartments, but they all said they hadn't seen you. I wondered if you had gone to the castle, but I guessed that you might have taken your time. I was right, I see." She trailed off.

Ginny couldn't bear it any longer. She burst out, "Luna, I'm sorry. I…" Ginny, all of a sudden self-conscious, murmured, "I'm such an arse. I shouldn't have said that."

Ashamed, she stared at the fading carpet underneath her trainers.

"I guess I was just angry- you hadn't written to me all summer! - but that was no reason for me to act like such a bitch-"

"Ginny," Luna interrupted. "How about I talk for a bit, and you don't chime in, all right?"

"Erm, fine…" Ginny nodded.

"I suppose you want to know why I haven't sent you any letters this summer. Well, for one thing, I've actually been busy. Dad and I went on a trip to the Amazon-"

Ginny gasped. Luna had gone on and on about traveling to see the jungles and mountains in South America, but Ginny never dreamed it could have actually happened. Luna must have been so thrilled to finally see everything she had been reading about.

With a reproachful glance in her direction, Luna went on. "As I was saying, we went to the Amazon in the last week of June and all of July. We got back just in time for Dad to edit a bunch of stories for the Quibbler, and the rest of my break was spent studying, cataloging, and summarizing our findings. Oh, Ginny…"

Luna's voice took on a tone of reverie.

"It was fantastic. I collected so many plant species. We even found the rare _Acer toxicum_, I owled a sample to Professor Sprout, and she was beside herself! A nursery of Dugbogs was roosting by our campsite too. I wanted to take one home with me, but Father refused…" Luna faded off wistfully.

"That sounds wonderful, Luna," Ginny remarked, a content feeling spreading through her body, like honey. "And I can definitely understand why you didn't write, you must have been swamped!" she reasoned.

"Yes, I was rather busy," Luna mused. "But enough about me, I want to hear all about your summer too! You went to the World Cup, didn't you? I can't believe Peru won- Oh! But we really should be getting up to the castle. It's likely the Sorting Ceremony has already started. Oh, you don't have your robes on!" Ginny looked down at her body. Observing she was still wearing her Muggle street clothes, she groaned.

"Merlin, just my luck! McGonagall and Filch will have a fit if I'm not dressed in my uniform. And I bet my trunk's already been taken up to the castle!"

Ginny looked up at the luggage rack to confirm that her things had already been moved, when she noticed a small bundle in the far corner of the shelf.

Luna wondered, "Maybe you could ask the Pygmy Casawerts for your password- well, you probably will have to hex them or something because they're rather nasty. Anyways, I bet you could sneak into your dorm, put your robes on, and come back down in time for the feast…" but Ginny had already clambered onto her seat and pulled the parcel down.

"No, that wouldn't work, Luna, I don't even know if Pygmy Casawerts exist... but thank Merlin, some house elf just saved my day!"

Ginny held up her uniform and robes tied neatly in a roll, grinning.

* * *

The girls walked up to the castle, giggling and swapping stories of the summer. By the time tottering Professor Flitwick led them into the Entrance Hall, the two were linked arm and arm, snickering madly. They strode through the double doors into the Great Hall, where the Sorting Ceremony was just finishing up.

Promptly, the girls dropped their pompous act, whispered their goodbyes, and blushing, hastily seated themselves at their respective House tables. The students curiously watched this interruption, but thankfully, their attention was soon drawn away as "Valli, Abana" became a Ravenclaw, and Professor McGonagall stepped stately to the dais for the traditional welcoming speech before the start of term feast.

"Welcome, new students and welcome back, old ones. I assure you that we all will have a _very_ productive year."

Twitters of amusement buzzed through the collected students.

"Last year," the Hogwarts Headmistress continued firmly, silencing the whispers, "was eventful. Perhaps the most significant in all of Hogwarts history."

In just a few words, McGonagall had captured the attention of even the Slytherin table.

"Voldemort's defeat has finally ended this terrible war, and as you are quite aware, the Wizarding World has relaxed some." Sternly gazing down her spectacles at the student body, she warned, "Hogwarts will not relax. We are just as committed to giving you the best education Britain has to offer as before this war, and we will not slip on our standards just because some vile old Dark Wizard has been killed!"

At this, several people began choking on their pumpkin juice and amused laughter filled the hall. Their solemn Headmistress had just had the nerve to call the Darkest wizard of all time 'vile', and the assembled pupils found this rather humorous. A few Slytherins chuckled, but the majority of students seated at the far left table were silent.

Tucking a few loose hairs behind her ears, McGonagall proceeded, slightly miffed, "I hope you will try your hardest at your lessons and exams this year. Before our feast materializes, I would like to introduce our new teachers. After the unfortunate events of last year, the Professors Alecto and Amycus Carrow will not be returning to Hogwarts," McGonagall stated with a wry smile.

"I am pleased to introduce Professor Davies, an alumni of Hogwarts, returning to teach Muggle Studies."

Ginny, who hadn't even glanced at the other teachers since her arrival, noticed the tall, handsome man (whose first name was something along the lines of Robert- she vaguely remembered catching glimpses of the boy in her third year) stand and nod pretentiously at the outburst of applause. Ginny noted that most of the clapping was coming from fifth, sixth, and seventh year females, tittering and batting their eyelashes coquettishly.

Suppressing a laugh, Ginny scanned the other teachers, puzzling over who would be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. She spotted Hagrid, who was quite hard to miss, and gave him a small wave.

As the applause died down, McGonagall declared, "And taking over the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts is Professor…"

She cleared her throat briskly, and uttered a single name.

"Malfoy."

A sudden hush fell over the hall. Every gaze was directed at the staff table. Ginny's heart stopped in her chest, her breath bated and her mind blank.

A horribly awkward scraping drew her attention to far corner where a man clad in black robes, the shadows obscuring his face, slowly rose to his feet and surveyed the crowd of students. Draco Malfoy stood solitary before his former friends and peers, greeted with silence.

The moments stretched on until Ginny felt like it would never end, and then he lethargically lowered himself back into his seat.

Hissing mutters shot across the chamber, flying from House to House, weighted with frantic and anxious looks. Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater and attempted murderer of Albus Dumbledore, was teaching at Hogwarts?

McGonagall must have tried to quiet the drone, but Ginny did not notice. The plates were instantaneously heaped with mouthwatering dishes, which she automatically ate, speaking to no one. The welcoming feast was delicious, as usual, but everyone was hyper aware of the enigmatic undertones of the night; a dark tension was strung throughout the whole meal. Ginny went through the motions in a daze. Dessert came and went, and soon the time came to leave for the dormitories.

Ginny, still silent, followed the throng of Gryffindors to the Fat Lady's portrait, which swung open after a Prefect declared the password, "Kneazle Knees."

Clambering inside, her fellow housemates wished their friends a hushed goodnight, and the students separated.

Finally inside her cozily lit dorm, Ginny expected she could be alone with her thoughts. However her roommates, Anita Wilkins, Ebony Sanchez, Madden Fitzgerald and Tafariah Abebe had a different idea. The four of them had never really been particularly chummy with Ginny, which was fine by her, considering Anita and Madden were twits and Ebony and Tafariah were apt to be catty, especially in the morning.

This night, as the girls were unpacking their pajamas and toiletry bags, Anita and Madden chattered about Malfoy and their DADA lesson the next day, severely annoying the other three. Ginny overheard their conversation while she was mechanically brushing her teeth in the bathroom.

"I can't believe Malfoy's going to be our professor!" Anita giggled girlishly. "I never liked him as a person, but you've got to admit, he's quite handsome."

Madden, sorting through her trunk, peeked over the edge.

"Nita, really! All the times he's called us 'Gryffin-whores', and you still fawn over him? All right, his hair is rather nice…" she gazed dreamily at the hangings of her four poster. "But," she snapped forcefully after Anita snickered at her expression, "that still doesn't make up for the fact that he's a horrible person! I bet he's going to teach us all sorts of awful things in class tomorrow," she murmured, horrified.

Ebony had had enough of their simpering.

Snapping a towel swiftly through the air, her dark eyes flashing, she barked, "For Merlin's sake! You are a bunch of halfwit imbeciles! Don't you _get_ it?" Snarling, she punctuated each word with a gesture. "Malfoy's a former Death Eater! All right, Voldemort's dead, whoop-de-doo! There's still going to be more Dark wizards, and I'll be damned if that pig-headed arsehole isn't planning something in his little prick of a brain- Merlin knows _why_ McGonagall let him back in the castle! Bloody hell, get a _brain_ you morons!"

Flinging the towel onto her bed, she stormed into the bathroom, quickly followed by Tafariah. Ginny was nearly bowled over by the girl stomping in, and quickly exited the loo.

Madden's mouth hung open in shock, and Anita was whimpering slightly. Furious clatters and clangs of slamming objects could be heard from the bathroom, as well as plenty of swear words.

Madden sniveled pityingly, "She didn't have to be that rude…"

Anita only faintly wailed in response.

Ginny, swiftly changing into her pajamas, tried to block out the argument. She had enough on her mind to worry about what her roommates fought over. Desperately wishing Harry or Luna were there, she climbed into bed, pulling the four-poster's curtains together in order to block out the pathetic sight of Anita and Madden.

Distantly hearing the din continuing from the bathroom, Ginny stared at the maroon hangings. She knew that having Malfoy in the school was going to be terrible, dangerous even. She had no idea what motive he might have for coming back to Hogwarts, but she understood that it was not beneficial for her or any of the other students. Deciding to owl Harry early the next morning and to discuss the situation with Luna in Potions, she half-heartedly attempted to fall asleep. Remotely perceiving the other girls falling into bed, she eventually sunk into a fitful sleep.

**A/N: Sorry for such a long break between chapters. I shall most likely be updating this every two/three weeks. I hope you enjoyed this chapter- I had way too much fun writing Ebony's character. Also, if anyone has an experience with Ethiopian names (especially last names) your expertise would be greatly appreciated. haha! Anyways, please read and review- constructive criticism is always appreciated as well.**


	3. Chapter Three: An Unexpected Surprise

**Disclaimer: I disclaim profusely.**

**I would like to thank my wonderful reviewers for motivating me to get my lazy butt in gear: MargretKelley, Eryk Lestrange, and of course, the lovely TuesdayNovember.**

**Chapter Three: An Unexpected Surprise**

The dawn of September the second was definitely not as serene as its sister before it.

Ginny woke abruptly to the sound of Tafariah yelling obscenities at the shower head, and from then on, the morning became steadily worse. Dressing in stony silence, she quickly arranged her hair in a rope-like braid and exited the room.

Breathing a faint sigh of relief, she jogged down the stairs into the common room. The friction had been thick in the air of her dorm, as last night's dispute had obviously not been resolved. Ginny was glad to have escaped the unpleasant atmosphere.

The hallways were deserted, considering that it was still very early in the day, and her footsteps echoed down the stone passageways. Several yawning portraits peered curiously at the lone figure wandering the corridors. Entering the Great Hall, Ginny was unsurprised to see only a handful of students occupying the four long tables. Surveying the Gryffindor table and finding no one of interest to sit by, she grabbed a seat close to the door.

Digging disgustedly into her porridge, she contemplated her schedule she was to receive that morning. Since she had never finished her coursework last year due to her stay at Aunt Muriel's and the Battle of Hogwarts, Ginny had received additional work in July, which she completed and sent back to Professor McGonagall. In the last week of July, she had sat her finals under the supervision of Professor Vector in London. Thankfully, she was all caught up in her N.E.W.T. studies, and was therefore on the same level as the rest of her classmates.

As Ginny was swallowing the last of her orange juice, the Headmistress swept into the hall, her emerald robes billowing behind her. She held a large stack of schedules, and began handing them out to the growing number of Gryffindors seated at the table. When McGonagall reached Ginny, she smiled agreeably and offered her the timetable.

"Congratulations, Miss Weasley, you passed all your sixth year exams, which is more than I can say for your brothers." Ginny laughed, amused but not shocked at the fact.

Perusing her classes, she was pleased to note she had Double Potions with the Ravenclaws that morning, as well as Herbology and Defense Against The Dark Arts after lunch.

Her stomach clenched, and a nauseating feeling came over her. She knew to be an apothecary, she was required to take extensive courses in Potions, Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures, but D.A.D.A. was not a required class.

"Excuse me, Professor, but there must be some mistake… I'm not supposed to take Defense Against the Dark Arts," Ginny explained.

McGonagall turned her grim stare upon the staff table for an instant before bending down so only Ginny could hear.

"That is true, Ginevra. Last year, you were required to take only three classes. However, with the addition of Professor _Malfoy_," McGonagall emphasized his name distastefully, "he has asked that all seventh year N.E.W.T. students be required to take his class."

"But-" Ginny starred to protest.

"I'm afraid, Miss Weasley, that you will have to take Defense Against the Dark Arts. As Professor Malfoy has so kindly informed me, he has permission to enforce this, as stated in the Ministry of Magic's Educational Decrees Numbers Thirteen through Seventeen."

She went on in a much more intimate tone.

"Ginevra, I don't like this any more than you do. It is definitely not an ideal situation and not one I would have foreseen for Hogwarts."

"Why would you hire him then?" Ginny hissed, harsher than she had intended.

Inhaling sharply, McGonagall responded, "I'm sorry, Ginevra. Even as your family was so involved in the Order, I cannot divulge that information to you. It is up to Professor Malfoy to reveal that if he so wishes. Again, I'm sorry you were put in this situation. Try to make the best of it. And remember- please behave yourself. I doubt Professor Malfoy will take kindly to having a fiery Weasley in his class."

With an air of finality, she sailed off, passing out schedules and reprimanding students when necessary.

Ginny, her jaw set rancorously, glared at the staff table. This morning, she clearly recognized the sheen of white blond hair bent over a dish of porridge. She desperately wanted to pull out her wand and overturn the bowl right on his foul little head. She restrained herself, if only because she didn't want Gryffindor to acquire negative house points on the first day of school.

Ginny searched for Luna at the crowded Ravenclaw table, but she didn't spot her friend's fair wavy locks. By now the hall was packed with students, and Ginny wanted to send a note to Harry. Racing back up to her deserted dorm, she grabbed her schoolbag and headed to the Owlery.

Penning the letter amongst the droppings on the wide stone ledge, Ginny scribbled:

_Harry,_

_Thanks for your letter. Journey was fine, but I've got some news you might want to hear. Malfoy is the new D.A.D.A. professor, and now he's required all N.E.W.T. students to take his course._

_It's my last class today after Herbology. I'll owl later and tell you how it goes. Definitely something suspicious going on, especially since McGonagall won't tell me why she hired him. I've got to run to class, will you tell Ron and Hermione too?_

_Ginny_

Quickly tying the missive onto Pig's miniature leg, she rushed down the Owlery steps. Turning the corner, she ran headlong into someone dashing toward the West Tower.

She grunted as she was thrown to the side, books and quills flying, and landed painfully on the hard stone floor.

The person she had run into cried out in alarm, arms flailing wildly. Sitting up dizzily, Ginny realized she had collided with Luna. Her friend was struggling to stand up, reaching for her bag and several sheaves of parchment on the floor.

"Sorry," Luna muttered breathlessly, straightening up. Catching sight of Ginny, she exclaimed, "Oh, Ginny! It's you!"

"Yeah, sorry about that, you OK?" Ginny apologized, climbing to her feet. "I was trying to get to class, I've got Potions in the dungeons. You sending a letter?" she asked curiously.

"Oh yes," Luna replied lightly. "I was going to send one to my father, one to Harry, one to Neville, and one to Dean- about Malfoy being appointed as a teacher, you know." Her large eyes stared fervently into Ginny's. "I think he's up to something. It's all very odd, don't you think?"

"Luna, we truly are two peas in a pod- I was just sending a letter to Harry!"

Her friend laughed warmly. "I've got Potions with Slughorn too- let me send this really quick, then we'll sprint down to the Dungeons!"

Arriving barely before class started, the girls settled into a table with Gryffindor Vicky Frobisher and Ravenclaw Sophia Fawcett, both sixth years.

Slughorn, peering up from his desk, spotted Ginny and Luna. He gave Ginny a friendly nod of acknowledgment. While he had never particularly taken to Ron, Ginny had always been noteworthy in his eyes because of her diligence and curiosity, not to mention the fact that the man still fondly remembered her impressive Bat Bogey Hex.

Ginny had gathered, from snippets of conversation over the summer and from the school rumors, that her Potions professor had been quite changed over the course of events last year. He no longer held his Slug Club dinners, and did not 'collect' students of outstanding talents or relations. Still, she caught him wistfully gazing at the writing desk in his corner of the Potions classroom, where previously he had stored portraits of his best students and which currently was stocked full with specimen jars.

Slughorn moved from behind his vast desk, smiling cheerily, his groomed mustache and protruding belly greatly resembling a walrus. Ginny remembered how Harry had once remarked that 'the Walrus' had invited them to another Slug Club dinner in her fifth year, and she grinned amusedly.

"Welcome to N.E.W.T. Potions, everyone. I gather that you're already well aware of the slight scheduling conflict this year with Defense Against the Dark Arts, which is why we've had to squish both sixth and seventh year N.E.W.T. students together. Now, this year we will be delving into the art of Potions, and this is tricky, tricky business. If you ever feel like you're lagging behind, come talk to me and I will arrange a tutor for you. For the time being, today I would like you to brew a batch of Doxycide. Filch has notified me of an infestation in several draperies in the Hufflepuff dormitories, and he appears to be all out of it. The ingredients and directions are on the board. Please begin!"

Ginny groaned inwardly. She clearly remembered the morning in which Mrs. Weasley had armed the young residents of Number 12 Grimmwauld Place with spray bottles of Doxycide and set them to work on clearing out the nasty little pests in the drawing room curtains. The stuff had smelled horrible, and it took Ginny three whole days to wash the stench out of her hair.

Reading the list, it seemed to be a fairly mindless potion. She and Luna gathered the necessary ingredients from the storeroom, and they set to work on finely chopping the hellebore stems.

Ginny, smoothly deseeding a ruby pomegranate and dumping the remains into the cauldron, caught Luna's eye. Slipping her wand out of her pocket, she whispered, "_Muffliato!"_ an incantation she picked up from Harry.

Protected from prying ears, Luna and Ginny immediately swapped theories of Malfoy's incentives for returning to Hogwarts.

Luna seemed bent on the notion that Malfoy was trying to raise an army of gargoyles to destroy Hogwarts. Eventually, after Ginny's pronounced skepticism, she speculated if Malfoy wanted to exile McGonagall and to instate himself as Headmaster in order to deny half-bloods and Muggleborns induction into Hogwarts, fulfilling Salazar Slytherin's primary wish.

Ginny, as much as she loved her friend, had to disagree. She believed that Malfoy wasn't power hungry, but she had no idea why he would come back to Hogwarts. She had always been convinced he loathed the school, as well as its former Headmaster. With Dumbledore gone, and Draco free to leave Hogwarts after his final tumultuous year, she had no idea why he would return.

The two friends pondered in silence for a while until Ginny realized she was stirring her potion counter-clockwise, and it was emitting sourly smelling puffs of orange smoke. Hurriedly changing her direction, she was relieved to note that the potion simmered down to an inky black, matching Luna's perfectly brewed concoction. As the end of class neared, Slughorn went around to all the tables, observing students' potions and taking notes on his parchment.

"Excellent, excellent," he murmured, nodding at their table. "Miss Lovegood, marvelous, as usual. Miss Fawcett, nicely done- just make sure to chop those tubeworms into even segments, that's why your potion is a tad blotchy... Miss Frobisher, notably improved since last year, eh? Next time, take your wolfsbane from the right hand bin, the left is the discarded ones… your potion is slightly too pulpy for my liking. Ah, Miss Weasley, wonderful! I see you've got this down pat. Please, ladies, stopper a vial of your potions and bring it to my desk. I'm very impressed, girls. Delightful!"

Beaming, he continued onto another table, which was unfortunate for the occupants. They were not bathed generously in his praise, since most of their potions resembled tar. Slughorn assigned the homework, and the class audibly groaned when he revealed it was due the next lesson.

As the bell rang for the end of class, Ginny packed up Luna's cauldron while her friend dropped off their samples on Slughorn's desk, and the two parted ways. Luna strolled off to Transfiguration, calling down the corridor, "I'll see you in Herbology!"

After wishing her friend luck in McGonagall's difficult N.E.W.T. class, Ginny ambled up to Gryffindor common room for her free period. The room was quite deserted except for a small group of sixth years, who, upon seeing her enter, turned away apathetically.

Finding her dormitory thankfully deserted, Ginny set to work on her N.E.W.T. Potions essay about the effects of Doxycide on Doxies, which she found actually interesting, especially since she had personal experience.

Ginny, who was definitely no Hermione, had found she was quite talented at brewing in her third year. She had successfully mastered a Befuddlement Draught for extra credit, and even Professor Snape had found no flaws.

Granted, she made many mistakes over the course of the years, but she never lost interest in the area.

The time passed by quickly, as she was immersed in the fascinating world of magical and chemical reactions and the Doxy nervous system. She was greatly startled when the dormitory door flew open with a bang, and an irate Ebony stomped inside.

"Bloody idiot!" she roared, "He's got to be the most ignorant git in the whole world!"

Growling more insults, she flung herself onto her carelessly arranged bed, pulling the pillow over her face.

Ginny, interested and rather amused at her roommate's arrival, perched herself on the edge of her own bed, and waited for Ebony to stop fuming.

Eventually the girl stopped muttering, and flopped onto her stomach, her dark hair in a wild halo above her head.

"Really, I didn't think anyone could have been worse than Carrow last year, but he's a total dunce. Just lapping it all up like a dog! I suspect tomorrow we'll have to levitate the ones who faint down to the Hospital Wing…"

She trailed off, glowering out the window at the clear sky, as if daring the sun to shine brighter.

Ginny asked, "Muggle Studies?" and understood completely. She knew from the moment that Davies stood up, Muggle Studies was going to be a rather insufferable class for Ebony.

"Yeah," Ebony scowled. "A bunch of Hufflepuffs asked Sprout to add his class onto their schedules this morning, just to be in his presence. It's like first year all over again!"

Ginny, remembering their lessons with Professor Lockhart, chuckled. All the girls in her year had been infatuated with the grinning blond teacher, but Ebony and Tafariah had found him conceited.

"What happened?" Ginny asked.

Ebony laughed derisively.

"Well, let's see. I walked into class to find all the girls battling it out for seats in the first row. Then Mr. Narcissus himself struts in and the first thing he says to the class is, 'Hello, I'm Professor Davies, but of course, you all know that.' He grins around like he's the best thing in the world, and by now the girls in the front are drooling puddles all over the floor. Then we started working, if you could call it that. Mostly, Davies answered extremely personal questions about himself that I totally wish I could have unheard, because I'm pretty much scarred for life. Like, who in their right mind would want tell detailed accounts on how his gallbladder was removed in an emergency procedure at St. Mungo's? And an elaborate speech on what attracts him to a girl? It was complete _bullshit_, the only time we talked about actual Muggles was when one of the vapid Hufflepuffs asked if he had a Muggle girlfriend, and-"

Ginny, who was thoroughly entertained by this point, decided to have a little fun.

Interjecting, she asked, "Does he? Have a Muggle girlfriend, I mean?" She cooed, feigning earnestness, "Oh, he's so handsome, I hope he doesn't! I wonder how long they've been together?"

Ebony, her violent rant interrupted, stared blankly at Ginny for a moment before realization dawned upon her.

Her voice laden with disbelief, she asked, "Do you seriously think he's _handsome_? Do you actually _care_ if he has a girlfriend?"

Her mouth gaped open, the incredulity evident on her face.

Ginny, desperately trying to keep her mask of distress on, failed miserably.

A giggle escaped, and soon she was laughing so hard she was crying, doubled up on the bed.

Ebony, discerning Ginny's trickery, indignantly began beating Ginny with her pillow. Ginny's cries of mock pain soon turned Ebony's chagrin to amusement, and eventually both of them were rolling around on the floor in bouts of hilarity.

It was quite an odd sight that Tafariah walked in upon.

"What the hell?" she blurted, dropping her bag by her nightstand. "Seriously, what the fuck-"

She silenced with a pillow to the face from Ginny, and in no time the dormitory was filled with yells of battle strategies and blanketed with downy white pillow feathers.

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update! I shall be quicker next time…**

**R&R- it's greatly appreciated.**


	4. Chapter Four: DADA

**Disclaimer: I disclaim (I find I am running out of interesting things to write about in these disclaimers… sorry. Does anyone even read these anyways?)**

**Chapter Four: Defense Against The Dark Arts**

Still giggling from their bout, the girls magicked the feathers away, and Tafariah tried her hand at conjuring pillows. Six perfectly plump pillows floated into place on the three beds, and they hurried down the common room stairs.

Ginny felt quite content with Ebony and Tafariah by her side. When the girls weren't being bitches, they were actually quite fun to be with, she mused, as they ambled arm in arm through the hallways.

The Great Hall, and lunch, beckoned.

Sitting in the middle of the Gryffindor table, the girls heaped their plates with mouthwatering dishes.

Through bites of her chicken sandwich, Ebony filled Tafariah in on her disastrous Muggle Studies class, and Tafariah shared her story of Charms.

"So after the bell rang, Professor Flitwick asked me to stay after class so he could go over some spells he's having me practice for extra credit, and then he couldn't find his grade book, and we couldn't use any Conjuring Charms _obviously_, otherwise students could just _flick_, and there, they'd have all the grades-," with an exasperated cough from Ebony, Tafariah hurried to the point.

"Anyways, we had to manually search for it. By the time I got out of there everyone was either in the dorms or at lunch. I was walking to the Tower to put my bag away, and I passed by the fifth floor corridor, you know, where Fred Weas-"

Suddenly Tafariah faltered, obviously registering that she was talking to Ginny. She bit her lip, looking away ashamedly, and a horribly awkward silence settled over the group.

"Shit, Ginny," Tafariah eventually whispered. "I'm sorry... I-"

"Hey, it's fine." Ginny spoke briskly.

At the mention of Fred's name, her chest had tightened and a familiar lump in her throat had risen. She had soon noted, however, that it wasn't incredibly painful to hear his name. Yes, she still missed her elder brother terribly, but now there was a definite feeling of warmth in her heart. Fred had gone much too early from the world, but he died happy, fighting for a worthy cause. A satisfying smile of pride grew on her face.

"It's fine, because I bet he'd be proud. You know, because he died fighting against Voldemort."

Ebony and Tafariah, still bounded by the uncomfortable constraints of the conversation, could only observe in silence. Ginny, however, felt limitless. She had become gradually aware over the last few months that the implicit reality and sorrow of Fred's death had lessened, but she had never really understood it until now.

Looking around the Great Hall, she fully grasped the magnitude of what had occurred in the sheltered walls of Hogwarts. Shaking herself back into the present, she focused on the two girls perched anxiously in front of her.

"Really, Taf. Please continue," Ginny said sincerely.

Tafariah, still looking tense, hesitatingly started again.

"Well, I was at the- the fifth corridor. Um…" Staring at her hands, she took a deep breath and continued.

"And, well. Both of you know that after the Battle last year, McGonagall and the teachers did everything they could to repair the castle. But there was so much Dark magic that not everything could be fixed… and there's that smashed wall in the fifth corridor where a curse hit, you know? So I was walking along, no one was around, and all of a sudden I heard this whining noise. I investigated…"

Here Tafariah leaned in close and furtively whispered, "And it turns out it was Martha Fittleworth! She was leaning against the wall just sobbing quietly… Of course, I didn't want to intrude so I turned and left, but I think she may have seen me."

All three turned to the Hufflepuff table and searched the fourth years, but there was no sign of the curly haired girl.

Martha's sister Amelia had been hit with several spells simultaneously during the battle, had become instantly immobile, and had been carted off to St. Mungo's.

Later, Hogwarts had been informed that the girl had started thrashing and flailing, the repercussions of a seemingly harmless combination of a particularly nasty Dark curse and a Shield Charm. Her condition stayed volatile for the next few days, shifting from a comatose state to writhing convulsions. The Healers could not wake her, despite their best efforts.

Her parents were agonizing over the grim decision of whether or not to terminate their daughter's life support when a Healer rushed in with the news that their daughter had collapsed, lifeless, after a final seizure. It was a tragic, mystifying event, of which none at Hogwarts could understand.

Tangible, definite evidence of death, _Avada Kedavra_, the Killing Curse- that could be comprehended, like the murders of Cedric Diggory and the Potters.

But Amelia's passing delved into the complex, primordial aspects of magic, which the Wizarding World had never quite grasped. This strange reaction of a protective spell and an incursive one had only ever happened once before: Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. His mother's sacrifice shielded him from Voldemort's attempted murder. Yet Amelia did not survive her ordeal, and intellectuals and commoners alike came to the conclusion that because the Shield Charm was not offering up one's mortality, it did not foil death in the way that Lily Potter's sacrifice had.

Martha had not returned to school after her sister's funeral, and as Ginny was not close with the girl, she hadn't even seen her when she returned. There had been plenty of talk after the Battle of Hogwarts, but Ginny had moved through those last few weeks in a daze, so she had heard none of the rumors circulating.

Obviously, Martha must have been devastated to have her sister not only die, but to go through a horribly drawn out, painful process. With a grimace, Ginny remembered that she had yet to talk to Dennis.

The girls finished their meal in hushed conversation. The discussion was mostly about the various students who had lost family members, like Martha, and now had returned to Hogwarts.

Ginny, taking the last bites of her brownie, turned the dialogue towards their first D.A.D.A. class that afternoon.

Glowering, Ebony muttered, "I've asked other students. They won't say a word. Just kind of gape and scurry away."

Tafariah hadn't been able to discover anything either.

Wishing each other luck and rising from the table, the girls parted for their various classes after lunch with a pressing feeling of trepidation.

Ginny's walk through the gardens to Herbology was outwardly pleasant. The noon sun shone happily on the bobbing figures of students hurrying off to classes.

Madam Hooch was leading a group of first years off to the Quidditch Pitch, and a large mob of fourth years were meandering down the twisted path to Hagrid's newly resurrected hut and their Care of Magical Creatures class. The pumpkins were barely visible in the garden, and the air carried the scent of grass and wildflowers, the last hurrah of summer.

Ginny noticed none of this. She was preoccupied with the concept of her D.A.D.A. class that afternoon, and with each step the ball of tension in her stomach grew more tangled, snarling. The familiar whiff of earth and greenery could only quell her worry for a moment, and as she took her spot next to Luna, it twisted around her organs once again.

Pulling on her gloves, Ginny half-heartedly listened to Professor Sprout's welcome and explanation. It was only when Luna nudged her sharply as she left to grab an Angel's Trumpet from the pile in the front of the greenhouse that Ginny became aware of her surroundings and the plump professor's concerned face in hers.

"Miss Wealey? Really, Miss Weasley! Daydreaming on the first day of class... Well, hurry up, hurry up! Wouldn't want Miss Lovegood to take all the good _Brugmansia_, now, would we?"

Agitated, Ginny hastily grabbed three branches from the tub and returned to her spot. Luna was already squeezing out the sap into a small bowl. It smelled rather odd, like decaying fish and mint toothpaste.

Holding back a gag, Ginny slit open the root and watched as the clear liquid drained out. Next, she carefully chopped the stem into strips lengthwise (without touching them with her bare skin because they were poisonous) and laid them out on the table, drenched in the lazy sun, to dry.

The leaves she chopped so finely they were almost like dust, and when Eleanor Branstone sneezed, a number of students' piles blew up into the air, settling into cracks and grooves and several people's hair.

It was only when Professor Sprout, occupied with the cries of people who had the stinging powder blown into their eyes, had turned away that Luna and Ginny could talk.

Ginny recounted Tafariah's tale in the fifth floor corridor and Ebony's experience in Muggle Studies. She had just finished explaining to Luna about the unusual silence of the younger students after Malfoy's class when the bell rang from the castle.

Swiftly turning to her friend, Ginny stared into large aquamarine eyes that were as uneasy as Ginny imagined hers looked. Her friend could do no more than grip Ginny's hand tightly for a moment, and then the two parted.

Ginny, her bag swinging violently at her side, dashed up the steps to the Bell Tower and pushed her way through the growing crowd. Suddenly her bag caught on a corner and spilled.

Books, with pages ruffling, arced fluidly until gravity took hold. Parchment glided around the students' heads, and ink bottles soared gracefully through the air before fatally plummeting to the stone floor.

If Ginny hadn't been the victim of this mishap, she might have found the sight comical. The majestic flight of her bag along with her frantic motions to clean it up gave the onlookers some entertainment.

Merlin, this was the _second_ time today her bag had spilled!

When she had gathered the majority of her things, she pushed past the thinning crowd in the hallway and continued on her way with flushed cheeks, the ever present knot of worry in her abdomen only growing tighter.

Her mind was rushing so fast that it was difficult to distinguish even a single thought, and she was vaguely aware that she kept tripping over her feet. In moments that seemed to stretch on for eons and at the same time passed almost instantly, she was sprinting up a staircase that would lead her to the third floor.

As it lethargically detached from its current landing and groaned its way across, Ginny pummeled the handrail, hollering insults as its leisurely pace. Various portraits, observing the seventh year creating a scene, shouted advice as well as reproached her for acting so foolish.

Ginny paid them no mind, and as soon as the staircase touched the landing, she pushed past the group of terrified first years and bolted down the corridor. Turning sharply around the corner, she saw the large door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom close with an irrevocable snap.

It was funny, Ginny noted somewhere in the deep of her subconscious, that only two hours ago she had been pummeling Tafariah carelessly with pillows and now she was about to enter her first N.E.W.T. level Defense Against The Dark Arts class tardy. With someone she loathed and feared at the same time teaching it.

She heard the bell ring faintly over the pounding of her heart against her ribcage.

She was late.

* * *

Draco Malfoy, his sharp, aristocratic features flickering in the pale candle light, gazed around at the faces peering up, specter-like, from their desks. He laughed inwardly, noticing their apprehensive expressions playing out on their countenances. Gryffindors were always so easy to read.

He smoothly hid his discomfort and anxiety in true Slytherin fashion, his mask sliding back into place, the cold flames elongating their fingers and wrapping him in their embrace. He was thankful for their protection. His students were obviously rather unnerved by them, and Draco believed they added an air of mystery to the classroom. The forbidding light also concealed the bags encircling his silvery eyes, results of last night's broken sleep.

He had dreamed fitfully and remembered waking, gasping loudly in his sweat soaked bed, but had forgotten the nightmares. They were not the typical ominous terrors that had plagued him with their horrible screaming mouths ever since his sixth year. This dream was different, a whisper of a faint future that he had stretched for pitifully upon waking before it was whisked away into the wind like smoke.

Hauling himself back into inhospitable reality, he turned swiftly on his heels and prowled around the perimeter of his shadowy lit classroom.

"This course," he stated, "will be unfamiliar to many of you. I am sure you will find this class unlike any you have taken before. In previous years you have been taught about Dark Creatures, Unforgiveable Curses, and have probably read too many chapters in _Defensive Magical Theory_ than you care to remember."

Even as he had enjoyed the dictatorial reign of Umbridge (for during the height of its power, he possessed much authority over the other students) he was still required to take her class.

He did not fondly remember it.

A slight strained pause as he returned to his podium, then: "The Dark Lord was-"

A creaking, groaning noise came from the back of the room as if to interrupt his speech with a superior point of its own.

All eyes turned and watched the door heave open as Ginny Weasley tried with all her might to quietly enter the classroom undetected. She soon realized that her plan had utterly failed, noting the many Gryffindors- her peers- twisted at unnatural angles to get a glimpse of the intruder.

Malfoy stared in anomalous silence as the girl pulled her courage together and straightened her shoulders. Her obstinate walk to the front of the classroom took a while, and by the time Draco realized she was standing below him expectantly, slow murmurs of unease were darting around the chamber.

Startled, he gaped for a few moments before shaking off his uncharacteristically baffled daze.

He thought he discerned a breath of a smirk cross the girl's lips before they were placed back in their indifferent position, brown eyes deep with nonchalance… and something else. A question, perhaps?

Maybe this Gryffindor has a Slytherin mask as well.

Aware of the disquieting pressure suspended across the room, he pulled his gaze from her mesmerizing eyes and flipped open the leather-bound grade book that rested pretentiously on the podium.

Leafing through, he found the attendance list and moved to make a mark under Ginevra Weasley's name, but suddenly paused, a hint of his old sneer playing across his face.

"Miss… _Weasley_, was it?" He asked the question without lifting his head and his voice was smooth, like chocolate.

The girl flinched slightly, her eyes boring holes into the platinum tresses. Draco knew without a doubt what she was feeling- _You know who I am!_ He could practically feel the vexation pouring from her, livid and fierce.

Of course he knew who she was.

Had he not tormented her all those years ago? Here, in these very hallways! He remembered one of the first times he had seen her- in that shop on Diagon Alley, what was the name? Flourish & Blotts? What a long time ago that was.

And then she was at school. He recalled catching glimpses of the little first year in the hallways, clutching that black book of Father's in her arms protectively.

Vaguely, he wondered what had become of it.

In his fourth year, he caught sight of an older Ginny, waltzing and laughing in that fool Neville's arms.

Fifth year. Her assertive execution of the Bat-Bogey Hex in Umbridge's office. Rumors of the group of them at the Ministry, a mutter about the Department of Mysteries…

Sixth year (oh, that had been an agonizing one), a look of merriment on her pretty face after Quidditch practice, arm and arm with Dean Thomas. Then suddenly, clasping hands with Potter, grins on both their faces…

He wrenched his thoughts away from that despicable smile, a sour taste in his mouth.

Gripping the quill with probably more force than needed, he made a deliberate, bold mark under her name.

Tardy.

Feeling a sick sense of satisfaction but grudgingly remembering his obligation as a teacher, he turned his scrutiny to the girl still standing resolute in front of the podium.

"Well, Miss Weasley, would you please tell me why you are late, especially on the first day of class?" he asked with forced politeness, expecting a feeble excuse.

She opened her peach of a mouth, and out spilled the exact opposite.

"I was late because I didn't want to give you the satisfaction of controlling me, _Malfoy_."

The words fell like anvils to the floor, echoing against the stone walls of the classroom.

There was a sudden hush. It seemed the whole room, from the coarse curtains obscuring the windows to the slim, pallid candlesticks (which now seemed so foolish and juvenile), waited with bated breath.

Ginevra Weasley uttered the words with equal parts confidence and abhorrence, and Draco Malfoy understood that he was dealing with a true Gryffindor.

Well, two can play at that game, little Weasley.

Velvety pale lips parted and out fell emphatically pronounced words.

"Detention, Miss Weasley. Tomorrow night, 8 o'clock. Come to my office."

Oh, yes. Two can definitely play…

But only one can win.

**A/N: Ah ha! I feel so evil leaving you with that. I will update soon, please R&R! Question: Do you feel like the chapters are too slow? I feel like the plot needs a little morsel of Energizer Bunny.**


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